Thursday, April 27, 2023

Hold My Hand

The multipurpose room had three major functions: gym, theater, and lunch room.

As a lunch room, there were no lunch ladies to serve and no cafeteria lines to stand in. The children, ages five to twelve, brought their lunches to school in brown paper bags or in decorated metal lunch boxes and simply gathered there to all eat at the same time. 

The room was monitored on a rotating basis by two of the school’s twelve teachers. Except for the occasional attempt to start a food fight, the teachers expected, and were mostly rewarded, with an orderly proceeding. The teachers made no attempt to keep the room quiet. 

To accommodate the lunchtime purpose, eight mobile bench tables, which stood seven feet tall when folded in half, were rolled into the area and unfolded to their full length of twelve feet each. Sixth graders, being the oldest students at the school and being taught about responsibility, were in charge of setting up and taking down the tables. Four students were selected each week. This week, one of those students was Elena. 

Elena opened her brown paper bag and pulled out a bag of corn chips, a Ziploc containing her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a small plastic bottle of juice. Zoe opened her Scotch Plaid metal lunch box to reveal a thermos of two percent milk and a ham and cheese sandwich on buttered white bread wrapped in a beeswax cloth. A small silicone container held homemade applesauce. Her mother had provided her with a stainless steel spoon. The girls sat together at one of the bench tables, just as they did everyday. 

“Did I miss anything after I had to leave class to set up the tables?” Elena asked.

“No. That teacher’s aid girl handed out a worksheet we’re supposed to complete after lunch recess. It has something to do with a thing called a Venn Diagram.” Elena bit into her PB&J while nodding her head.

The girls gossiped a bit about Kim and Steve who, it had been rumored, were caught kissing out behind the school tennis courts during morning recess. They giggled at the very thought of doing such a thing.

When she had finished her lunch, Elena crumpled up her paper bag along with the Ziploc, the empty chips bag, and the plastic juice bottle, and tossed them in the trash bin. Zoe placed her beeswax wrapping, empty silicone container, and spoon in her lunchbox and latched the lid shut.

The teachers were beginning to hurry all of the students along to get them outside onto the playground so that the multipurpose room could be returned to its pre-lunch norm. “I’ll wait for you outside,” Zoe said to Elena who waved and went to join the other three students to take down the bench tables.

Zoe strolled down the hall to the area outside her classroom where each student had an assigned cubby and coat hook. She placed her lunchbox in her cubby. She thought about putting on the windbreaker jacket she had worn to school that morning, but decided it was far too nice for a jacket. She went outside to sit on the steps to wait for Elena. 

The minutes ticked by. When Elena still did not appear, Zoe began to chew on the nail of her right index finger. When several more minutes elapsed, she decided to go check on her friend.

As she walked down the deserted hallway, Zoe looked over her shoulder a little concerned that a teacher might ask her what she was doing. As she peered in through the door to the multipurpose room, she saw four teachers hovering around one of the mobile benches. The mobile bench was neither upright nor in its usable position; it was toppled over on its side. A whimpering sound reached Zoe’s ears as she edged closer to the gathered group. 

One teacher raised her head and looked Zoe right in the eyes. “Don’t come any closer,” she said. Zoe then heard Elena’s tiny little voice say, “I want Zoe, I want Zoe, I want Zoe.” Zoe could tell that the teachers were unsure what to do or say, so she made the decision for herself. She walked around to the other side of the fallen table and there on the floor with a part of her right femur pressing against the skin of her thigh was Elena. Zoe’s eyes grew wide. A teacher kindly said, “Let’s take you out of here, shall we?” But Elena said, “No, I want her to hold my hand. I want Zoe to hold my hand.” So Zoe sucked in her breath and put her brave face on. She sat down on the floor next to Elena and took her hand in hers. She held Elena’s hand until the ambulance arrived. 

Once the paramedics came in with their gurney, which they set on the floor right next to Elena, they asked everyone to move away so that they could work. They ran an IV line into Elena’s arm. They counted to three and moved Elena onto the gurney and then wheeled her out to the ambulance. Zoe saw Elena close her eyes. 

A teacher asked Zoe if she was okay. She said she was, except she wasn’t. She was feeling very cold. She walked back down the hall to get her windbreaker jacket. She went outside and walked around the corner of the building so no one could see her. She started to cry. She cried until the bell rang to go back inside. 

Zoe was allowed to visit Elena one time while she was in the hospital. Elena wanted her to hold her hand. It would be many weeks before Elena was able to return to school, but the girls were able to talk on the phone whenever they wanted. 

During one of their conversations, Elena said, “You're my best friend.” 

“And you are mine,” said Zoe.

Copyright DJ Anderson, 2023